What's that?
Haddy had now been a Third Year for the past month and according to him this year was shaping up to be the best of his Hogwarts career so far. The main reason for that, Tom believes, is the shiny Slytherin Prefect badge on his lapel which opens even more doors and mitigates more punishments than Haddy had thought possible. Just last week the boy had earnt himself a detention from Professor Grubbly-Plank for trying to entice a baby Hippogriff into the Hufflepuff common room. Fortunately, Tom was able swoop in at the last minute and offer his services as a detention monitor, so instead of Haddy spending the third Saturday of the term catering to the flobberworms, Tom instead let him sit quietly in the library and create doodles of Grubbly-Plank being decapitated by an angry Hippogriff (Tom might have taken one of the better doodles to add to his collection of Haddy’s Macabre Drawings).
The Knights were sat around the table in the Great Hall, tucking into the hearty stew the house elves had made for dinner when smothered giggles alerted them to Haddy’s presence.
“No CeCe, he promised me it was all natural.”
From where he was sat in the middle of his Knights, Tom could see Haddy skipping towards him a mischievous smile on his face as he carried on the one-sided conversation he was having with his cat.
“I know that’s what I said! But he said he didn’t even have highlights.”
Out of the corner of his eye Tom could see Abraxas’ face steadily becoming redder and redder, eyes wide and nostrils flaring in anger.
“No, you’re completely right, some honey toned highlights will definitely stop his complexion from looking so grey and sickly, don’t worry I’ll tell him now.”
Tom thought it would be best to step in before Haddy could address his hairstyling advice to the aggravated blonde, Malfoy was too vain to let an insult like that slide without a duel and Tom was too tired to patch up the Seventh Year when he inevitable lost.
“Haddy, we have already been over this with Beyoncé, just because we can speak to snakes does not mean that we are fluent in the languages of every member of the animal kingdom.”
Haddy looks away from the disinterested cat who was now licking its paw and towards an exasperated Tom who was so done with this conversation.
“Riddle me this Tommy…”, Haddy starts, cocking his hip and twirling a lock of his ebony hair around a perfectly manicured finger.
“…What sound do snakes make?”
Confusedly, Tom answers, “A hissing sound.”
“And what other animal could be described as making a hissing sound?” Haddy prompts, holding up a befuddled CeCe to eye level, the creature letting out a pathetic mewl as if questioning why its owner was acting even stranger than normal.
The Slytherin lets out a sigh whilst simultaneously massaging his forehead.
“Haddy it’s not the sa-“
“CeCe says you look very handsome today”, the Hufflepuff quickly interrupts, smiling at Tom beguilingly, “he says that jumper really brings out the colour of your eyes”.
Tom looks down at his jumper, the same jumper he had been wearing for the past three years, on account of him being a poverty stricken orphan, but even when Tom knew the compliment had an ulterior motive behind it, his cheeks were still inexplicably flushed and his heart had started beating faster in his chest.
“Thank yo-“, Tom quickly coughs to mask the embarrassing voice break that had unfortunately become a common occurrence, “Thank you Haddy, that’s very kind”.
“CeCe was the one who complimented you, thank him.”
Tom may have a soft spot for the younger boy, but even Haddy’s hopeful face wouldn’t convince him to publicly pretend that a cat understands the English language, Tom meets Haddy’s beseeching expression with a small grin and a rueful shake of his head. The smaller boy sighs, mumbling to himself ‘you win some you lose some’ before shoulder bumping Corvus and Orion to the side and taking a seat at the table. With that the table lapses back into comfortable quiet, the Knights separating into pairs and small groups, discussing homework, crushes and how the Imperio on Myrtle Warren to cry whenever the word ‘book’ is used is still going strong. This peaceful atmosphere would not last long it seemed, just after the house elves had taken away the empty bowls and everyone was enjoying their first bite of dessert, Haddy asked a question.
“What’s a blowjob?”
Chaos ensued.
All of Abraxas’ pureblood training was for nought it seems as the spoonful of ice cream he had just put in his mouth was projectile spewed out of his mouth in a splatter, right into Orion’s face, droplets of creamy strawberry seeping into Black’s shocked open mouth. This would be fine, if not gross, if it wasn’t for the tiny issue that the Fifth Year is deathly allergic to strawberries. So, whilst Cygnus had begun to drool and his face was reddening in lusty embarrassment at Haddy’s question, his older cousins face was reddening in what seemed to be a very violent rash, spittle spewing out his mouth due to the obnoxious retching his allergic reaction was putting him through.
Across the table, Dolohov and Nott were sat bracketing Corvus, the three of them had their mouths open in shocked horror. The two older years, without ever tearing their eyes away from the sight of Haddy confusedly looking round at the chaos he had unintentionally (for once) caused, were repeatedly hitting the younger Slytherin on his arms, as if they didn’t know how to express the disturbance they felt without resorting to violence.
The girls scattered on the outskirts on the Knights’ space, including Walburga, began giggling and fanning themselves in semi-feigned modesty.
Throughout the whole duration of this madness, approximately thirty seconds, Tom was still. His breath was stuck in his throat, so many emotions battering the inside of his skull that it felt his body was physically responding to the mental turmoil he was suffering through. Goosebumps were erupting up and down his arms and it felt like his temperature was fluctuating between the extremes. Tom swore he would castrate whoever had taught his innocent boy that word.
“Sweetheart”, Tom finally responds, keeping his tone light and deliberately putting on a smile so Haddy wouldn’t see the fury that now infested Tom’s mind.
“Who told you that word?”
Haddy looks round at his companions in confusion, the pandemonium beginning to settle, all the Knights gathering around, almost as incensed as Tom and eager to know the name of the heathen that had attempted to corrupt their poor Hufflepuff.
“Diggory, he told me to give him one when I was washing my feet in the boy’s lavatory.”
“Diggory… He’s twelve!” Abraxas stammers as they all collectively look down the Slytherin table towards the First Year section, where Diggory was holding court amongst his peers. Obviously sensing the menacing glares of the upper years, the freckled boy turns his head, barley noticing the expressions of fury as he finds Haddy’s face in the crowd, giving the emerald-eyed boy a salacious wink before going back to his conversation. That’s it, Diggory has a death wish.
“Wait why were you washing your fee-”
“He said I must give good blowjobs for you to keep a useless Hufflepuff like me around.” Haddy looks between the group, pouting slightly
“Is he right, do you only keep me around for my blowjobs?” Tears had begun to mist the brunette’s eyes and he had wrapped his arms around himself in a solo hug.
Tom was lost for words, opening and closing his mouth, willing himself to try and find the appropriate response to that absolutely ludicrous statement. The prefect was happy to see Nott and Dolohov get up from their seats and advance on a unsuspecting Diggory but before Tom could get into his torture mindset he had a teary Hufflepuff to comfort and convince that, no, Tom and the Knights didn’t keep him around for these fictional blowjobs.
As Tom pulls the still teary eyed Hufflepuff from the Great Hall his overactive brain is for once not keeping up with the present, still trying to analyse the implications and fallout of what had just happened. Hugging the boy to his chest and picking up the conveniently on hand cat to lift to his boy’s face and dry his tears, Tom quickly tries to decide the next move. Should he tell Haddy what a blowjob is? On one hand, from Haddy’s tales, Lord Peverell seems like the type of overprotective father that could make Tom’s life a misery when Haddy reaches courting age, should he really be known as ‘the pervert who taught Haddy about oral pleasure’? Moreover, teaching Haddy about blowjobs, those big green eyes looking at him trustingly whilst Tom educated him on the pleasures of the body, may result in Little Tom becoming invested in the conversation, which is another thing Tom absolutely did not want to broach with his darling this early on.
On the other hand, Haddy will be upset if he didn’t get an answer.
Shit
He has to tell Haddy what a blowjob is.
Tom reaches this conclusion just outside of the Great Hall, where his boy had stopped for a cuddle break with his so called ‘emotional support animal’. Looking back, Tom searches the hall for the disgusting little toe-rag that started this mess. He finds him sitting in front of the teachers table where he had obviously fled to after seeing the two malevolent looking Seventh Years coming his way, playing off his cowardice as simply asking Professor Dumbledore a question.
Discriminatory little rat, hating on Hufflepuffs (and yes Tom does realise the irony of that statement) if there is anything Tom has learnt in the course of his friendship with Haddy, it’s that no one should under-estimate or under-value a Hufflepuff. Well, that’s a lesson Tom will force him to learn.
Putting his arm over Haddy’s shoulder, Tom starts to lead him towards the Hufflepuff Common Room instead of the Slytherin one they usually go to after dinner, he wants Haddy to have his own personal space to go to after this conversation, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable with being stuck in Toms space when discussing sexual matters. Whilst walking Tom contemplates how this is the second time the callousness or stupidity of a student has made Haddy cry. Diggory wants to hate Hufflepuffs, that’s fine, but how will he feel when no matter how he raises his offspring, Tom will curse the Sorting Hat so that named members of the House of Diggory will forevermore be placed in the house of kindness and justice. A rather just punishment if he does say so himself.